


Desert Heat

by Evil_Little_Dog



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Challenge Response, Community: springkink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-17
Updated: 2011-02-17
Packaged: 2017-10-15 17:58:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/163385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evil_Little_Dog/pseuds/Evil_Little_Dog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt:  Fullmetal Alchemist, Roy/Maes - heat kink – isn’t it too hot for this?<br/>Summary:  They survived Ishbal, but Roy’s still lost in the desert.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desert Heat

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Arakawa would probably frown at this pairing....

X X X

“Oh, man.” Maes fell back onto the bed, fanning his face with one hand. “I didn’t know it could get this hot.” He rolled onto his side, tugging at the collar of his uniform and starting to unbutton it. “Whose bright idea was it to give us wool uniforms?”

Roy ignored him, staring at the wall. They’d made it out of Ishbal, alive even. It didn’t seem to matter. The stench of burning bodies, like roasting pork, still clogged his nostrils. His skin felt rubbed raw from blowing sand and his eyes dry from that same hot wind.

When Maes suggested they get a hotel room and get drunk to celebrate living, Roy had agreed, but first he’d wanted to make sure Hawkeye got the medical attention she’d needed for the burn on her back. Once she was safe, resting with the medics, and doped up so she felt no pain, Roy had let Maes lead him away.

They’d wound up here.

Roy hadn’t even realized until he was shepherded through the door of their room they were at a hotel, much less that Maes had paid. He still felt as if they were trapped in Ishbal, with the vibrations of Kimbley’s explosions shocking his body and the screams of the Ishbalans in his ears. The sun still bore down on his head, even though they were inside a hotel room.

“Roy?” Maes’s voice seemed to come from far away, past the retort of Hawkeye’s rifle, picking off one of the enemy. “Roy, do you hear me?”

Heat pressed against his back and Roy started, raising his right hand to snap. Someone’s hand closed around his. “Roy!”

He twisted, staring up at Maes. How had he gotten there?

“Roy, come on. We survived.” The dim light from the window glinted off of Maes’s lenses.

Moistening his chapped lips, Roy asked, “Are you sure?” He waved a hand at the walls surrounding them, the same dry dust color as the tents of Ishbal. The curtain hems rustled in a hot breeze, the pattern reminding him of the woven patterns of the Ishbalan sashes. The blanket on the bed mirrored the sand of the desert and, for a second, Roy thought he could see heat rising off of it. He closed his eyes.

“Roy.” Reaching around him, Maes began unbuttoning his jacket. “I can’t believe you’re still in this thing.” He kissed Roy’s neck, right underneath the line of his military hair cut. “It’s so hot.” His hands snaked under the jacket, rubbing over the soft cotton of Roy’s undershirt. The heat of his palms moved over his stomach, his hands rose to tweak his nipples through the shirt. Roy inhaled sharply, his eyes snapping open as he arched into Maes’s touch.

“More.” It was a plea.

Maes sucked on Roy’s neck, licking up and curling his tongue around the lobe of his ear. Hissing, Roy bent his head to the side. He reached back to cup Maes through his trousers. The wool felt hot and rough beneath his hand and the angle was wrong for him to pull the zip down easily. With an irritated whine, he turned, shoving his jacket off his shoulders. Maes caught hold of Roy’s hips, sliding his fingers around the front to unbutton the placket. He dragged the zip down, curling his fingers into Roy’s waistband and pulling his trousers and boxers down together as he dropped to his knees. Maes kissed Roy’s thigh, nuzzling the soft skin there, his lips barely moving over the tip of Roy’s penis.

“Maes.” Roy groaned, trying to step back, nearly losing his balance with his ankles bound up in his clothing.

Maes exhaled, the warm, moist air surrounding Roy’s shaft. “Shh.” He licked the head, closing his mouth over it and fucking the slit with the tip of his tongue.

Swallowing a moan, Roy dug his fingers into Maes’s short hair. His thighs quivered as Maes sucked on him, hard enough to make Roy’s eyes roll. “Can’t stand,” he managed to get out. “Gonna fall down if you keep this up!”

With a wicked smile, Maes pulled back just far enough to talk. “You’re the one keeping it up.” He dug his chin into the soft flesh above Roy’s groin, rubbing his roughened whiskers against Roy’s sensitive skin.

It reminded him of the sand that he’d been unable to keep out of his clothes, or bedding. Roy shoved that memory back. “Damn it, Maes.” He fought one foot free of the confining trousers. “I don’t want to fall! And you’re tickling me!”

Maes dropped back on his butt, grinning up at Roy. “Then get out of the rest of your clothes and get on the bed.” The tip of his tongue peeped between his lips. It looked bright red, and so wet. “And I’ll join you.”

Pursing his mouth, Roy pulled the other foot free. “Isn’t it too hot for this?”

Maes’s smile got broader as he pointed at the bed. “It’s about to get hotter.”

Roy dragged his undershirt over his head, dropping onto the mattress. The blanket scratched, but not like sand, or wool, instead, like clean but cheap fabric. He sighed, inhaling deeply, tasting the scent of something other than sweat and heat. Maes threw off his clothes, giving his shaft a stroke as he sauntered to the bed, leaning one knee on it and making the mattress dip and groan.

“The springs are broken,” Roy grumbled as the sag in the mattress made him slide into Maes’s knee.

Maes laid his hands on Roy, pinning his shoulders to the bed. “Don’t care.” Leaning down, he licked Roy’s mouth. Heat made Roy’s skin prickle. He parted his lips, sliding his tongue against Maes’s. The springs squealed as Maes lowered his weight on top of Roy, his hands tracing down Roy’s arms. Their fingers laced together, Maes guiding Roy’s arms up over his head. His hips ground into Roy’s.

The clean scent rising off the bedding, the screech and moan of the springs, the lack of the sounds gunfire, trumpets and radio announcements finally dragged Roy out of his own head, away from Ishbal, and into Maes’s arms. He was right – they’d survived. As Maes kissed him, hard and deep, Roy knew he had to make the most of this time they had together.

This was a heat he’d luxuriate in.

X X X

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Hard To Keep Track of You (The Fake Empire Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/189684) by [likeadeuce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeadeuce/pseuds/likeadeuce)




End file.
